


I Pulled A Thorn From His Tiny Paw

by why_didnt_i_get_any_soup



Category: DC Animated Universe, DCU
Genre: Food, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, Implied/Referenced Mind Control, Imprisonment, Kissing, M/M, SUPERBAT BIG BANG 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 09:45:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11461026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/why_didnt_i_get_any_soup/pseuds/why_didnt_i_get_any_soup
Summary: When there's a Superman imposter, Batman and Superman must work together to get to the bottom of it.





	I Pulled A Thorn From His Tiny Paw

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so glad to have participated in this challenge! Amazing art by [architeuthis](http://archiveofourown.org/users/architeuthis/pseuds/architeuthis). View [here!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11457846)  
> Beta'd by the wonderful [BuckinghamAlice](http://archiveofourown.org/users/BuckinghamAlice/pseuds/BuckinghamAlice) ([her tumblr](bisexualclarkkent.tumblr.com)).

Clark was surprised to see news about Superman on tv when it was clearly _not_ him. His first thought was that perhaps it was another exact replica of him, like during the whole fiasco with Doomsday and the Toyman, but as he squinted at the footage of the person being labeled “Superman” he could see that they were not flying but _leaping_ huge distances. The person clearly had the super strength but, again, it didn't look like the person was doing anything constructive. It was more like they were destroying part of Metropolis for the sake of destroying _something_.

So, he wasn't surprised when he got a call from the Watchtower. The League was being called in. Even though this was his off day, he quickly put down his bowl of cereal and suited up, taking off in the general direction of the chaos.

The flying members of the team were already there, trying to contain the threat, into a smaller area to wait for Superman to take it out. J’onn was hovering near the person, a dark haired boy from the looks of it, and repelling hits as the boy bounded into him. Green Lantern was creating a force field above the citizens and streets below the danger area. Red Tornado was hovering near the scene, ready to jump into action if need be. Clark didn't see the other team members but he assumed that Batman was likely in the Tower, monitoring the whole thing, possibly with Hawkgirl or Wonder Woman at his side. Batman often did not get his hands dirty, leaving a lot of hardest work to Clark because of all of Clark’s _abilities_. Clark had to admit, despite how that sometimes made him feel resentful, he was a better fighter than Batman.

The young man looked angry and, gritting his teeth, like he was unlikely to give up his fight even as he was being suspended in the air by a combination of Green Lantern and J’onn’s powers. He looked like he was ready to claw his way out, tooth and nail, of the force holding him there. Clark regretted having to do what he was about to do. The boy needed to be...sedated, so to speak. Sighing, Clark pulled one hand back and then propelled it forward, landing a regulated blow right into the boy’s face, just between his eyes. The boy went limp and Clark knew it was going to leave a mark. But he knew this person needed to be taken to the Tower for closer examination and possible interrogation before any other actions could be taken, legal or otherwise. And so, the team made their way back to the Tower in a relatively silent manner, floating up through the atmosphere, Clark with a boy in his arms that looked so much like him at that age.

As soon as they arrived, Batman showed Clark to a room he’d never seen before.

“What _is_ this?”

“It's a special room,” was all the bat offered.

It gave Clark an uneasy feeling, like there was much more to the room than he was letting on. It was more like a jail cell than anything, though it wasn't particularly inhospitable. He just really didn't want to be there, seeing that kid placed on the little cot to the side.

“What are we gonna do with him?” Clark asked, trying not to sound as worried as he felt.

“While he's unconscious, I want to run a few tests, just to see what we’re dealing with.”

“You're going to _experiment_ on him?” Clark felt himself explode, the hallway booming with the sound of his indignant rage.

Batman put his gloved hands up in a placating manner. “That's not what I said.” Usually, he would get gruff with the other team members but his voice was soft now, like he was trying to be sensitive towards what was clearly a fear of Clark’s.

“You said ‘run some tests.’ What do you think that means?”

“I'm not going to keep him strapped to a lab table for days on end until he dies. I'm just trying to discern _what_ he is. And those tests should be minimally invasive, less than what they would do to you at a hospital.”

Clark hmm’d at that, not sure how to respond, especially with some of his anger boiling off with Batman’s response.

“We can talk to him after he comes to. And hopefully he’ll be more forthcoming than when he was trying to _destroy Metropolis_ earlier,” Batman said, the last few words with a little extra emphasis, as if it wasn't obvious that Clark had seen the kid crashing into skyscrapers prior to this.

Clark had no response to that and allowed himself to walk away, leaving the bat to his own devices, realizing that roles were reversed from how they usually were; Batman would be the one left brooding alone.

About five minutes later, Batman came to find him in an area of the Watchtower where Clark could be alone with his thoughts for a bit. He leaned in just a little to whisper to Clark. Of course, some of the other League members present in the Tower at that time had super hearing but all he said was to come with him, so it wasn't sensitive information. Clark obliged, appreciating that Batman was respecting his desire for privacy. When Batman knew they were out of earshot of the others, who were clustered together in the main room, and the two of them were nearing the “special room,” he admitted that he couldn't pierce the boy’s skin with a regular needle. They stood, looking in through the big window, and Clark felt so much like an alien observing this boy in this manner.

“I think he might be... _like_ you,” Bruce admitted.

“Just because he has super strength and tough skin…” Clark was getting defensive again, this time not stopping himself from tensing his body in anticipation of physical fight.

Batman shook his head, his movements still gentle like he feared he was speaking to a wild beast when talking to Clark.

“No, because when I used this,” he brandished a needle that looked like any other hypodermic needle but had a faint green glow, “it worked.”

Clark knew exactly what the needle was, had had one used on him before.

“Oh.”

Batman put down the kryptonite-tipped needle on a small tray sitting beside the closed door to the room.

“Is there any way…” Batman started to ask but Clark cut him off.

“ _No_. I have no biological children. Not even with Lois. I already know of Supergirl and there aren't any other survivors. None that I know of. ”

“We can't rule out that possibility, but is there a way that someone could have gained access to your biological material?”

“Who could? How?” Clark furrowed his eyebrows together, thinking, but then it hit him. “ _Luthor!_ ”

...

Finally, the young man woke up. By then, the whole League had gathered around, watching the monitor, waiting for any sign of movement. At first it was just brief twitching but then the boy sat fully upright, breathing heavily like he had woken from a horrific nightmare or a shot of adrenaline straight to the heart after cardiac arrest.

“ _Where am I?_ ” he shouted at the empty room, frantically scouring it for any signs. From his perspective inside, he couldn’t see another living being.

Batman leaned forward and spoke into the intercom micced into the room.

“You’re under surveillance by the Justice League. Does that mean anything to you?”

The boy looked bewildered, frantically searching the room for the direction of the voice, as though it were the voice of the divine.

“No. Who are you?” By then, he was off the bed and pacing like a caged creature. Clark had to admit, it made him uneasy, particularly if this boy was Clark’s kin, which seemed likely given the whole... _kryptonite_ thing.

“I am Batman,” he announced.

“What do you want from me?” He was facing the observation window where the camera and speaker were. Smart.

“We just want to know who and what you are so we can assess if you pose any more of a threat to the people of Earth.”

“Earth?” The boy said, the word sounding foreign in his mouth.

“Do you not know where you are?” Batman asked, skeptically.

“No.” The boy said, his voice changing from anger to a more somber emotion.

“Do you know your name?”

“Superman.” he said, confident in the answer.

Clark’s stomach dropped. That can’t be right. Why would this... _child_ think he is Superman? He tried to take a step forward, toward the mic but Batman placed a hand on his chest, a placating gesture, to keep him back.

“Why do you think that?” Batman asked, instead of allowing Clark to speak.

“It’s who I am.”

“Who told you that?”

There was silence for a few seconds and the boy looked confused, his eyebrows scrunched together in consternation and Clark had to admit, he looked identical to Clark at that age.

“I was born Kal-El, son of Lara and Jor-El, on the planet Krypton. I was sent to planet Earth to destroy it.”

Involuntarily, Clark clenched his fist, which made an audible creaking sound under the strain of super strength but a body of steel. Batman turned to him then, away from the microphone.

“You should go,” he said, not specifying where but the implication was that Clark should “take a lap,” so to speak.

Clark, falling back on habits he developed a long time ago, went straight to get food while, presumably, the interrogation continued. He wondered what else Batman was going to say to this small boy.

...

The bat found him in the mess hall, stuffing fries in his face. It turned out the boy was willing to submit to a battery of tests, to Clark’s surprise.

“It would help if you could submit some of your genetic material for comparison.”

Clark regarded him warily. “You some kind of biologist or something?” he asked, his Kansas accent coming out.

Batman laughed softly, almost endearingly, and stole a fry before replying. “No. I'm just a concerned citizen. That's the whole reason I'm here.”

Clark was silent, contemplating that answer. That was why he was there too. With that, Clark--somewhat begrudgingly--agreed to a few tests himself. To make “a thorough genetic comparison,” the bat explained a little more in-depth. In another room, Clark rolled his eyes but rolled up a sleeve and stuck his arm out to allow it to be pierced by another kryptonite tipped needle.

Clark hung out with Batman while he ran the tests, at the computers, waiting for a few hours while it ran through a database.

“How did you get access to this?”

“CODIS?” he looked up at the screen, “Well, it’s CODIS and a few other databases. But I have... _friends_.”

“That's not cryptic.” Clark laughed a little bit, but he had to admit that the journalist in him wanted to know so badly who Batman was, how he was able to do what he did.

Finally, the program stopped scrolling and pinged. No results.

“This doesn't bode well,” Batman said, base in his voice.

“What do we do now?”

“Now we compare his DNA to yours.”

Somehow, that made Clark very nervous. He didn't have a good feeling.

“I think I need to go for a fly for a bit.” He made the hasty excuse and left the room. Some recharging in the sun would be very helpful right about now.

Upon his return, he sensed that the League had vacated. _That's strange_ , he thought, as he found his way back to Batman’s little laboratory.

The bat made no move to conceal his vital signs that told Clark exactly what was going on, that he was _nervous_. Usually, Clark avoided purposely reading people but he knew this was deliberate, a sort of note to Clark that something weird was going on. There was no other reason the rest of the League had left.

“He’s a clone.” Batman said as soon as Clark stepped in.

“He's a _clone?_ ” Clark nearly choked. “How can you know?”

“The two of you have identical genetic profiles. Well, almost. There's a second element to the boy’s genetic makeup. Comparing his to yours, I can somewhat isolate the genetic profile of the other person involved with this child.”

“Are you going to run it through another database or something?” Clark asked, sarcastically.

“Yes, I am. The computer is still running scans but it shouldn't take more than a day for it finish. Now that I've removed the elements that belong to you, I can search for the remaining DNA. That explains why we didn't get any hits earlier; it was registering your DNA and not that of another human.”

“That makes sense.”

“While this is going, I think our best bet is to talk to the kid, see if we can get any information from him. I don't want to traumatize him though. I think having you walk in there immediately could scare him.”

“You want to go in there by yourself?”

“Well,” Batman hesitated, “it's not the most ideal. In terms of strength and ability, you two are more evenly matched. But I do...think I might be the best candidate to speak to him.”

Clark paused to wonder why. He had maybe seen Batman interact with a few kids at crime scenes and he had a few younger vigilantes that he clearly trained that all wore his emblem, but otherwise Clark didn't see him exhibit any skills that expressly leant themselves to Batman being the best candidate out of the whole League to speak to a young person.

“Are you sure I can't…” Clark tried to persuade, but Batman interrupted with a gloved hand up.

“I think this is the best,” Batman said, though it was obvious he didn't think it the safest, which was usually number one on his list of priorities. This was clearly an unusual circumstance, all things considered.

Then Batman started to walk towards the room with the boy inside.

“Wait, you’re going right now?”

“Yes,” he nodded.

“Oh. Well, I guess I’ll stay here then?”

Batman pointed to the monitor above them and then pressed a button.

“Be alert.”

And that was ultimate trust for Batman. He was trusting Superman to keep an eye on him, to come bail him out if things went south.

Clark was forever grateful that there was no sound feed into the room then, just video. He watched as Batman walked in, just barely, with his hands up in a placating manner. He seemed to hang there, suspended in time, waiting for permission. Clark wanted to look away but he couldn’t, for Batman’s sake, though the sight of the boy made Clark’s stomach churn. Who would be cruel enough to do this to another living creature, clone them and apparently falsely indoctrinate them with an identity and possibly memories that were not real? How could you tell someone their entire existence is a lie? It seemed cruel to tell him the truth, but just as cruel not to.

He kept watching the screen. Batman hadn’t moved positions but his hands were down now and the boy...didn’t look on edge. He looked more like he was leaning into the conversation, easing into it. Clark hadn’t expected to see that. Then, Batman moved slowly towards the bed, sitting delicately next to the boy. That didn’t necessarily bode well. From his experiences, a villain could explain their entire dastardly plot in the calmest voice you pleased. Though, he doubted that Batman would get so close if the boy was saying anything malicious. Not for the first time since the affair started, Clark wondered what was being said in that room, only for curiosity’s sake, which was why it was best he didn’t know. He kept watching, not hearing and getting a little bored, when a message popped up on the screen. Clark didn’t have too much experience with Batman’s computers but he’d used them a few times. He opened the message, despite himself, and found it was the result of the DNA test. There, on the screen, was a clear image of Bruce Wayne, the billionaire heir to Wayne Enterprises.

“ _What?_ ” he said, out loud, to himself before he realized he needed to be watching Batman and pressed the button to switch back to the surveillance.

To his relief, nothing had changed. Batman was still sitting on the bed, bowed and speaking to the boy next to him. The boy didn’t seem on edge or stressed, but Clark had been wrong before. Just then, he launched right into Batman. It was was lightening fast, just as fast as Clark could move, and just as soon as it started, Clark sped into the room. He tackled the boy, pulled him off Batman, and pinned him to the floor. Batman rolled away, panting, and sprang up.

“The restraints!” He coughed out, mostly to himself, moving to leave the room when he saw Clark had it under control.

When he returned, he had some arm cuffs that were faintly glowing.

“This is cruel, Superman. I’m sorry you have to see this.”

Clark nodded, just briefly. He hated what he was saying, hated that Batman had those. They clearly weren’t for the boy. They were for Clark. _Just in case_. Because even if Batman trusted him, which he obviously did, he still needed a contingency plan. It hurt. A lot.

“I’m sorry to have to do this to you, young man.” Batman addressed the boy then, as he placed the cuffs around him.

The boy didn’t scream, so it couldn’t have been much kryptonite, just enough to weaken him and keep him bound. Clark couldn’t help picture himself in the boy’s place, incarcerated, _subjugated_. It wasn’t a good thought. He watched as Batman linked the cuffs to a loop on the wall.

They both exited and then just stood outside, watching the boy tug on his cuffs and against the ring on the wall. Clark didn’t know what to say, didn’t know if he could say anything.

“What did he…?” he tried.

“He really thinks he’s you. I didn’t argue. I just asked him some questions. He didn’t even indicate he was going to attack.”

“I saw,” Clark agreed. “He just lunged at you out of nowhere.”

“What are we going to do about this?”

“I thought _you_ were the one with all the plans,” Clark couldn’t help say, snidely.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You have a holding cell built for me! How do you think I’m supposed to feel? And apparently we’re lucky that boy is like me.”

“I have a contingency plan for all of us, Superman. Even myself.”

This eased Clark’s anger, just slightly, but he still felt heated.

“I’m just...insulted.”

“I understand,” the bat said, and he was quite solemn about it.

At that point, Clark wasn’t sure what else to say. He wanted to say more but he couldn’t form the words. Instead, he told him about the DNA alert. “You got a match on the DNA.”

“Anyone we know?”

“Definitely.”

The bat peered at him from behind the cowl, an expression Clark couldn’t read.

“I think you’d better just have a look.”

…

Shocked was not quite the right word to describe what happened to Batman when he saw the screen. It was a reaction Clark had never seen before, a locking up of muscles, a clenching of the jaw, a sense that he was completely blank.

“I think you should leave,” he told Clark.

“What about…”

“I’ll handle it.”

Clark raised his hands in surrender and backed out of the room, before flying back to Metropolis.

...

Things settled down for a bit, were too quiet for Clark’s liking. It seemed a tacit agreement that Clark not come back to the Watchtower until he was invited back, though he didn't feel he had done anything wrong, anything to deserve that type of treatment. At any rate, Metropolis was steady with its usual amount of crime and he kept himself relatively busy with patrols when he wasn’t writing, but he still had that niggling thought in the back of his mind. Why was Batman so bothered by the clone sharing Bruce Wayne’s DNA? Was he that concerned about the invasion of privacy that created for a private citizen whereas he couldn’t give less of a shit that Clark’s privacy had been extremely violated? And what was happening to that boy? Was he dead, hidden away from the sun and rendered completely powerless? The thought made him shudder, still thinking of himself in that same position. He hadn't spoken to or even seen any other Justice League members since the incident, not even Diana. He missed her. He missed the bat, as grumpy and guarded as he was.

Diana didn't have a cellphone but she did have a work phone. From his desk to hers, he called.

“Department of Metahuman Affairs. This is Diana Prince. How can I help you?”

“Hey, Diana. It's Clark.”

“Hey!” she sounded cheerful, maybe a bit too much so. “What's up?”

“I was wondering if maybe...you’d like to meet up for lunch?”

“I’d love to. Name the place.”

“The diner on Fifth?”

“Sounds good.” She didn't bother to end with a pleasantry.

Clark chuckled to himself and made his way over to the meeting spot. Most of the League member had been forthright about their identities, if begrudgingly at first. Batman had been vehemently opposed and still refused to share, going so far as to even wear a lead-lined mask to thwart Superman’s x-ray vision. Clark knew, in theory, that it was a liability and safety issue but he felt a sense of comfort knowing he could call Diana at work and ask her to lunch if he needed to. He also knew that it would be beneficial to be able to do the same with whoever Batman really was. Though, sometimes with how he acted, Clark wondered if the bat was the real identity and not the other way around.

At the diner, Diana ordered a lot of protein and Clark just ordered a _lot_. She’d seen him eat before so she wasn't exactly surprised. When they got their drinks, Clark jumped in to what he wanted to talk about, speaking in code.

“Have you heard from him recently?”

“I haven't,” Diana admitted.

“Do you know what's going on with the kid?”

“Seems to be okay. Just holed up.”

It could sound like they were just talking about a moody teenager to eavesdroppers, if anyone cared to listen in on their conversation anyway. Diana was DOMA so she would know if anything was amiss in terms of them being surveilled.

“Without any sunlight,” Clark ground out a bit.

He saw a change in Diana then, a softening.

“Clark,” she murmured, “he’ll be okay. It's for his own good right now. He's having a hard time adjusting to a whole new world.”

He knew what she meant: false memories, trying to shift him into a new perspective, a new identity.

“The other young ones,” Young Justice, she meant, “have been talking to him a lot. He seems to be coming around. Megan even gave him a new name: Conner.”

“Does he like it?”

“He responds to it.”

“Not exactly a ringing endorsement.”

“Not exactly a rejection, either,” Diana pointed out.

Somehow, this meeting had made him feel better, already.

“Any ideas on who did it?”

“We’re looking into LexCorp. DOMA has some operatives invested. So we’re going to see what we find.”

“Okay.” Clark looked out the window, out at the busy street, not exactly fixating on anything.

“It's going to work out, Clark,” Diana reached out and placed a hand over his on the table, “I promise.”

“Thanks, Di.” He smiled and it felt genuine but it wasn't the happiest either. It was just somewhere in between. He knew Diana was trying her best.

Their food came and they moved on to more social things, sitting for a few minutes more after they ate and paid before going their separate ways, back to their offices.

…

Finally, Clark got the call to come back to the Watchtower. Only Wonder Woman and Batman were there when he showed up.

“What's this about?” Clark sputtered, feeling nervous.

Batman spoke up. “We wanted to keep it as quiet as possible but we’re pretty sure we found where Conner was cloned. Project Cadmus. It's not a subsidiary of LexCorp like we originally thought but it seems like Lex Luthor has ties to them. We have reason to believe he may have contracted them out, possibly specifically to create Conner.”

“What's the plan?” Clark asked, a fire in his stomach now.

“We make sure we've got the right guys,” Diana said.

Reconnaissance.

“And then we make sure to take down their operation,” Batman finished, vehemence in his voice.

It was at that moment that Clark got the real sense that Batman took no pleasure in the situation like Clark had previously allowed himself to feel. He hated it but he realized Batman was doing what he found to be in Conner's “best interest,” saving him from himself, so to speak. It wasn't particularly palatable for anyone involved. Which was an immensely relieving, more than he expected it to be.

“I'm on board.”

“Good. We have law enforcement through DOMA waiting on our orders. We just have to give them the probable cause to get in there,” Diana went on.

“Where to?”

“Just outside Metropolis,” Batman explained.

“Right under my nose!” Clark grit out.

“Don't beat yourself up about that,” Batman said, placing a hand on Clark’s shoulder. “None of us knew. This came out of left field. And it's not any more your fault than Darkseid, which, may I remind you, was not your fault either.”

Clark winced at the reminder. The bat quickly apologized.

“We should get going,” he said, clearing his throat awkwardly. “I'll drive.”

Clark wanted to protest but he felt this was a test somehow, that if he said no he would be crushing _something_ before it could even begin. Instead, he just nodded and the three of them loaded into the craft Batman had docked into the Tower. Diana, silently, moved into the backseat, leaving Clark the passenger seat. He felt she may have done it on purpose but said nothing. Fortunately, Batman didn't want to nor was he able to communicate while navigating back down to Earth and landing the craft in an inconspicuous area that would not alert Cadmus to their immediate presence.

They were in the woods, just outside of Metropolis, where city tunnels fed out, for one reason or another. The circumference of the tunnels really leant itself to villains setting up shop close enough to the city but beyond the usually watchful eye of the city’s ever-vigilant heroes. It was brilliant and Clark honestly wondered how they never thought to monitor this area.

“This is kind of the perfect area…” he mused out loud.

Batman and Diana looked at him, not saying anything, but he got the impression they both were thinking what he had been thinking.

“You ready for this, boys?” Diana smirked, her gauntlets glinting and her sword and shield at the ready.

“Let’s do it,” Clark said, and Batman nodded.

It was surprising how easy it was to actually walk into the front gate, but not at all surprising when creatures started manifesting from the shadows and blocking their way. The larger ones were quadrupedal, resembling sinister elephants, while the smaller ones were bipedal and quite human-like.

“Who hits first?” Diana called, smirking.

The creatures were forming more of a barricade than launching an offensive.

“I guess it’s gonna be me then!” She said, crouching just a little before launching herself right at the heads of the creatures.

She always worked best when she was up high and eye to eye with whatever it was. Landing on one of the creature’s shoulders, she was easily able to bring down her sword, cleaving the tusked, gray-skinned being’s head right in half. Before it even started to slump, she used her height to jump to the next one.

Batman, ever one to work smarter, not harder, got out his grappling hook batarangs and started flying around the smaller bipedal creatures to spin and trip them up on the tangle of lines crossing around them before they could even come toward him or try to retaliate

“Superman, you go!” Batman called while Diana was already on to her fourth kill.

At hyper speed, Clark flew around the creatures, carefully avoiding being stepped on until he was past the barricade. He wasn’t sure if Cadmus had really expected to be stopping Superman when they sent their goons out to stop intruders, but it gave him time to find the proof of cloning that he needed.

The main tunnel kept going back a few yards and then finally split into three. From there, Clark wasn’t sure where to go but he took a chance continuing going forward. The tunnels were not wet at all and actually quite clean. Still, it begged the question as to why they would pick subterranean tunnels for the operation in the first place. He supposed it kept their operation off the grid and was in a relatively ideal location.

He’d been right to keep going forward. He came upon a chamber lined with huge cylindrical tanks containing identical spiky embryos suspended in a blue liquid. Upon closer inspection, he could see all the same markings, the same skin textures, and the same coloration across each one of them. That was what they needed, proof enough to get the operation shut down. But he also recognized that he couldn’t leave this area for fear of destruction of the incriminating specimens. And he was heartened by the fact that the sounds of the fight were moving closer, meaning that his teammates were likely cutting through the horde and reaching him. He just had to hope that was the case.

Finally, Batman came tumbling in, his cape swishing in a dark blur around him.

“We’ve got it!” Clark exclaimed, watching as Batman paced along the aisle to examine the tanks.

“Call them in, Diana!” Batman called back behind him.

There were a few more noises of creatures screaming and fighting and then Diana’s feet hitting the ground. She strode in, panting and covered in flecks of blood. It was a good look for her.

“Bring ‘em in!” Diana spoke into her wrist gauntlet. Apparently, there was a radio device in it.

Clark turned to triumphantly smile at the bat, but he was gone.

“What the…” he looked over at Diana and she shrugged.

“We’re gonna help them carry this stuff out. It’s safe to assume that the guys running this place have vacated. They’re not exactly the priority right now. We can find them on the run later.”

“You’re right. It’s more important that we keep them running scared, not able to set up shop again,” Clark agreed.

“That’s the idea,” Diana said.

Then the DOMA guys came in and started recording and confiscating things. Diana and Clark helped them move the heavier objects and, finally, Batman came back. Clark eyed him suspiciously but he said nothing, just swept out of the chamber and marched toward the ship they’d left in the woods outside the tunnel.

“I’m gonna stick around here,” Diana said as Clark and Batman started to leave.

“Are you sure?” Clark said, feeling a little awkward at the thought of her leaving.

“I’ve done my part for now,” she explained and patted him on the shoulder.

He nodded and followed the bat out.

Once they were strapped in and taking off, Batman pulled out a file he’d been hiding in his cape. He handed it to Clark without a word. So that's where he had gone. Clark was stunned for a minute, but then he opened up the file. There, he was surprised to see a picture of the boy they had started to refer to as Conner with the title Project Kr. The rest of the file was pretty coded and Clark had to admit he didn’t know what to do with it, but he didn’t want to just hand it back like a jackass so he closed it and sat in silence on the way back to the Tower.

Once there, they sat down at chairs in front of the monitors in the main chamber. Batman started feeding the case file into a machine to scan them digitally and incorporate them into all of the data he already had. While that was processing and they were sitting in silence, a call came through.

“Patch it through,” Batman commanded the computer.

To Clark’s discomfort, Lex Luthor’s shiny, bald head and bushy eyebrows popped up on the screen, a shiteating grin curving his mouth.

“I believe you have something that belongs to me.”

“I think you’re mistaken,” Batman cut in.

“Oh, am I? So, you’re not in possession of Project Kr, then?”

“And even if we were?” Clark spoke up.

“Oh, so he _is_ with you,” somehow Lex’s grin got wider, “I can’t imagine you’re having all that much fun with a _Superman_ who wants to destroy Earth.” he chuckled.

Clark was grateful he kept the wince off his face at that.

“You’d be surprised.” Batman said confidently.

“If he seems to have changed his mind, it’s only because you’re torturing him, keeping him away from the sun.”

“You tortured him by creating him, giving him false memories. He didn’t ask for this life. Why did you do it anyway?” Clark couldn’t stop himself from standing, shouting at the screen.

“Calm down, Supes. I did it because I knew it would get you all hot and bothered. Creating an anti hero from the world’s finest, Batman _and_ Superman. Truly some of my best work yet.”

Clark froze. _Batman?_ He didn’t dare look over at...Batman? _Bruce Wayne?_ Could that possibly be _right?_

“End transmission.” Batman called out to the computer and the screen instantly shut off, switching back to the scanning progress screen: 76%.

The man next to him (Bruce? Mr. Wayne?) cleared his throat awkwardly.

“I suppose we should talk about what just happened,” he said.

Clark nodded and watched as he removed the cowl. There, as expected, was the face of Bruce Wayne. He couldn’t really believe it and his eyes were trying to shift the features, trying to form the face into someone else, to deny the truth.

“You can call me Bruce,” he said, sticking his hand out for a shake.

“Clark,” Clark supplied, taking his hand, “Clark Kent.”

He saw the blue eyes go wide. “ _The_ Clark Kent?”

Clark chuckled. “The very same. Though, I have to say, I still think I had the bigger surprise. You’re _the_ Bruce Wayne.”

Clark had met Bruce Wayne before, at a high falutin function, once, and had tried to grill him on a few issues but Bruce Wayne, ever the charmer, had smirked and given a quick and easy answer before breezing off. The man before him now shrugged and it was quite endearing, though it was still different than the man he had met at the gala. This man was more open, vulnerable, the man he had been working side by side with the whole time. Clark found that it didn’t make him trust Bruce any less. In fact, he felt he might even trust him _more_ now that he knew who he really was. Bruce started walking down the hall. Clark followed.

“I guess now we need to figure out Conner,” Bruce said.

“Right.” Clark nodded even though Bruce couldn’t see him. “How is he actually doing?”

“We’ve had the Young Justice kids in there, talking to him. I think it’s helped him realize that the people he was with before were not the best. He doesn’t seem so bent on destroying Earth now. But with that file, which I’m having decoded now, I think it’ll show him that the memories he has really _are_ false, which is where we need to be with him. But having you talk to him would be good too.”

“I…” Clark trailed off.

“I know you’re nervous about that. He looks just like you, he’s your clone. He didn’t ask for this, and neither did we. But he’s here and I think it’s our responsibility to bring him into the fold.”

“Is he…?”

“Angry?” Bruce supplied.“A bit.”

Finally, they reached the room Conner was in. The wall facing out was open, clear glass. Conner was standing there, soaking up sunlight.

“I set it to open any time this side of the Tower is facing the sun.”

Clark felt his heart melt a little there. Bruce wasn’t cruel at all. He was doing what was best for the safety of the League and the world. But he had built in that feature from the get-go, meaning he never intended it to be a malicious chamber.

“Conner,” Bruce spoke into the microphone and the boy startled a bit since he couldn’t see them behind the two-way mirrored glass.

Conner turned around and looked in their direction anyway.

“Hello,” he called. It wasn’t exactly nice but it wasn’t angry like Clark had been expecting.

“How are you feeling today?” Bruce asked.

“Ready to leave this room,” he admitted and went to sit on the bed, back facing the sunlight.

“Just hang in there a little longer.”

The boy sighed.

“You know it’s just a safety precaution.”

“I understand,” Conner said.

“I have someone I want you to meet.”

“Someone I haven’t already met?”

“No. This is Kal-El,” he said and Conner flinched a bit. “Is that okay?”

“I think so,” he admitted.

“Okay. He’s coming in,” Bruce said and unlocked the door.

Clark swallowed anxiously before stepping into the room. The second he was inside, he could feel the sun giving him a little boost of energy.

“Hello,” he said, cordial, “I’m Kal-El.” He felt weird using the name since he rarely ever did, but he stuck his hand out to shake, not sure if Conner knew how to shake hands.

He was relieved when Conner reached out and took his hand.

“I don’t know how much you know—” he started, but Conner cut him off.

“I know I’m a clone, your clone, and I know the Cadmus guys weren’t who they told me they were. I know that I have false memories, even though they _feel_ real.”

“Can I sit?” Clark gestured to the bed.

“Please,” Conner insisted.

“I know it’s hard to accept these things. There’s a lot of evil in the world. But there’s also a lot of good. And I know it’s hard to take us at face value, especially when we’ve been keeping you in here, but we’ve been doing it for the good of the planet, which is our ultimate goal as the Justice League.”

Conner nodded, looking like he wasn’t able to say anything to that.

“I want you to know that we raided Cadmus today. The people in charge got away but I think maybe you can help us with that?” It was more of a question. “But we also got some information, on you specifically, that I want to share because I think it might give you some...solace. I don’t know.”

“Okay,” Conner agreed.

Clark looked to where the two-way mirror was, hoping Bruce was still there, and nodded. To his relief, the wall there turned into a projector screen and showed the decoded results from case file. It showed Conner’s picture, the name Project Kr, and it showed some of the initial lab results based on the DNA from both Clark and Bruce, though it became obvious that the scientists were unaware that Batman was Bruce. Clark was glad for that, now knowing Batman’s real identity; he didn’t want the world at large to know, especially considering that that meant Batman was responsible for those children, all his wards, and his secret identity could compromise their safety as well.

“You’re cut from the best cloth in the universe, the world’s finest. Batman and Superman,” Clark explained.

He looked over at Conner and he saw tears on the boy’s face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, trying not to panic.

“How will I know any of this is real?” he asked through sobs.

Clark reached out and placed a hand on Conner’s shoulder.

“Touch, remember touch. There was no _touch_ in those fake memories, but I’m here with you right now and you can feel me and when you come back to this thought, you can remember the touch.”

The boy nodded and wiped the tears with his t-shirt, one Bruce had given him by the looks of it. Then, he turned his face into Clark’s shoulder, into the super suit.

“So,” Clark started, after a few seconds of silent sobs, “You may not be Superman, but how do you feel about Super _boy_?”

“I think I can live with that,” he replied, picking his head up and sniffling a little.

“And since you come from the House of El, just like me, you have a Kryptonian name too.”

“Oh yeah?” he smirked a little, trying to save face after crying in front of Superman.

“How about ‘Kon-El?’”

Conner contemplated it for a moment. “Has a nice ring to it. I like it.”

“Then, from now on, you are Kon-El, son of Kal-El, of Earth.”

“Thank you.” Conner leaned into him again, this time his arms coming up for a hug.

Then, they stood up. The door unlocked and swung open. It was very clearly an invitation for them both to walk out. Outside, Bruce was waiting for them.

“How do you feel about joining the Young Justice team?”

“I think I’d be up for that.” Conner nodded, putting on a voice like he hadn’t just been crying.

“That would be your permanent base,” Bruce clarified.

“Understood.”

“Excellent. We’ll have Red Tornado escort you there.”

...

After about a week, Diana called Clark.

“We actually caught the Cadmus guys trying to flee the city. Probably would have been a lot harder in Gotham, so we’re lucky they were based here,” she told him.

“Thank you for letting me know.”

“Of course,” she said. “Oh. I heard you found out about Batman’s secret identity.”

“I did,” he confirmed.

“He sat the rest of us down for a meeting about it.”

“Were you shocked?”

“Not really, actually. It makes sense with how much access he seems to have to everything.”

“Yeah, I’m kind of bummed I didn’t put my journalist skills to good use on that one.”

She laughed and then asked him to lunch. The meal was nice.

...

Clark’s phone rang and it was a number he didn’t recognize. That wasn’t so unusual for a journalist, so he answered it.

“Clark Kent. To whom am I speaking?”

“Come over for dinner. I’d like to thank you properly.”

“Bruce?” he asked, surprised.

“I’ll send you directions and the time. They’ll be expecting you,” the voice said and then hung up.

 _Well, that was weird_ , he thought. But dinner at Wayne Manor was likely not a small event. He was excited.

Despite his ability to fly, Clark did have a car, for appearances. It was a sensible silver Volkswagen and he sometimes felt silly in it but the drive to Gotham was quite pleasant, with him putting on some soothing music and the feel of the open road. He started thinking that maybe he should take some time to slow down a bit and give these more human experiences a chance. Just not the subway. That was horrible and loud and smelly, a crush of the worst of humanity.

He pulled up to the gates of Wayne Manor just before the time he was meant to arrive for dinner and saw the looming house atop the hill in the distance. Even he, Superman, Man of Steel, felt intimidated by that. After he introduced himself at the intercom, the iron gates slowly swung open to let his car in. He was surprised how much land there was to the property. For a while, he was so surrounded by trees that he could no longer see the mansion until finally, he emerged to the looming facade of the homestead. He pulled around the u-shaped driveway, passed the water feature, and parked on the far end, facing back down the drive.

Suddenly, before he got out of the car, he started to feel nervous. Not because of the house but because of who was inside it. He had his 30-dollar wine bottle in the passenger seat and his pressed button down shirt but it felt inadequate now, sitting there in front of the house. There was never going to be anything that was going to be good enough for Bruce Wayne. Not when he was just Clark Kent, _Daily Planet_ reporter. He was just so civilian and he still couldn’t believe that this was the same man he had been working beside all this time. But he took a few deep breaths, adjusted his glasses, grabbed the wine, and heaved himself from the car.

When he knocked, an elderly man with a British accent opened the door.

“Master Kent. Master Wayne is expecting you.” He looked as though he wanted to ask Clark if he could take his coat but Clark didn’t have one.

“Clark is fine,” he said and stuck his hand out to shake.

The man looked at it as if it was an alien and Clark felt awkward but finally he took it and shook.

“Alfred Pennyworth,” he introduced himself.

“Thank you, Alfred.”

The man nodded. “Right this way, please.”

Clark followed him down a hall. It looked like there were several different dining area options but Alfred took him to a small, cozy one with a table big enough only for four or so. There were two places set there, but the room was empty.

“Please be seated. Master Wayne will be with you shortly. And I will take this, if you’d like.” Alfred pulled out a chair and reached for the wine bottle Clark had by the neck.

“Oh. Thank you.” He handed over the wine and seated himself.

He wasn’t waiting long, thankfully, but he was surprised to see Bruce preceded by a plate of food he was carrying himself.

“Did you…?” Clark started but trailed off, not wanting to insult him during their first official time spent together after finding out their secret identities.

“I cooked! I’m actually quite good at it despite having a... _butler_ …I like it, really.”

“I’m terrible at it,” Clark admitted, “I can mess up Ramen.”

Bruce laughed at that and set the plate down in front of Clark. It was a lean looking fish and a few other sides that looked and smelled delicious.

“Honestly, this looks really wonderful. Thank you.”

“Thank you for coming.” Bruce smiled and sat down himself.

“Of course.” Clark smiled back.

They settled into dinner and conversation and Clark found himself falling into it like he had known Bruce this whole time. And, to an extent, he had known Bruce a long time. Still, he hadn’t really _known_ Bruce, yet they were chatting like old friends. He wondered if Bruce was going to have the whole League over, one by one, and have dinner with them. He had to admit, he was having a hard time imaging Barry sitting here, just him and Bruce, having dinner. It would be way too awkward, really. Diana he could see. Red Tornado didn’t... _eat_. He wasn’t sure what J’onn did, if he was honest. He could imagine John, he seemed like a refined man, and he wasn’t sure if Shayera really...sat at tables. That was something he would have to ask John. Arthur ate fish he caught himself, as far as Clark knew.

At the end of dinner and after dessert, Bruce started walking Clark back to the front door. They were quiet.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Bruce asked.

“I was just imagining some of the other League members over here.”

Bruce chuckled.

“I don’t even know if some of them... _eat_ ,” he admitted.

“Yeah. I don’t know what Martians eat,” Clark said, “But the rest of them kind of fend for themselves.” He paused and then realized he had meant to ask. “You know, you never did say what you wanted to thank me for.”

“Oh. Hah,” Bruce laughed, scratching the back of his head, “It was mostly just a ruse to get you to come over.”

“What?” Clark was confused.

That is, until Bruce reached up and placed a hand on the side of Clark’s neck. _Oh_.

“Could I kiss you?” he asked.

Clark nodded. “Please.”

And then he did, just briefly, soft and sweet. More of a promise of things to come.

He pulled away then. “I have to get ready for patrol.” Bruce admitted, straightening Clark's shirtfront meaningfully.

“Right,” Clark agreed, “me too. Maybe Batman will run into Superman.”

Bruce smirked. “Maybe,” he said before shutting the door to the manor, leaving Clark on the front steps to think about meeting up with Bruce later.

He had to admit, this new chapter in their partnership was quite exciting.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Art] I Pulled a Thorn From His Tiny Paw](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11457846) by [architeuthis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/architeuthis/pseuds/architeuthis)




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